


The Sexton and his Cathedral

by Kaito_Dragneel



Series: Soft Wars Fanfiction [11]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Faie takes care of Ink, Faie wants to murder Krell, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Ink is a bit religious, M/M, No Sex, Nothing is explicit, TW: implication of rape, but can’t, but doesn’t know which one, but they naked, especially when Ink is too tired to do it himself, he believes in a god, just taking care of each other, no talk of genitalia, religious talk, shower scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29651319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaito_Dragneel/pseuds/Kaito_Dragneel
Summary: He could imagine it. Faie being the sexton to his burning cathedral. Taking water and putting out the fires. Slowly building the walls back up. Protecting him from the riots and flames from the outside. Sadly the sexton wasn’t always present, and so the cathedral burned and burned and burned, sometimes being only partially salvageable.
Relationships: prerelationship Ink/Faie
Series: Soft Wars Fanfiction [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1725040
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	The Sexton and his Cathedral

**Author's Note:**

> The implied rape is only one line.

1719 woke to the sound of someone slipping into his room. He tipped his head up to listen to the soft footsteps. A strong stride, soft feet, a hesitance in the steps closer to his bed. Ah. So that’s who it was. 1719 closed his eyes again as he felt the bed shift and the covers being pulled back. An arm slid around his waist and slowly pulled 1719 towards the edge of the bed.

“What‘re you doin’,” 1719 mumbled into the bed, half asleep and wanting to be left alone.

“Getting you cleaned up, cause you can’t do it yourself apparently,” Faie said softly, a scoff in his voice, hands gentle despite the pain they always dealt to others.

1719 scoffed, snapping himself back on to the bed with a snarl at Faie. The anger was bright and ash filled, and it was met with the ember that was Faie. Hands snapped around 1719’s waist and yanked him up, grip bruisingly tight. Alarm and fear snapped through 1719 like a tripwire at first at the harsh yank, a memory of a different set of hands over his body. Large and purple and twice the number, but only a memory. The fear disappeared when Faie lifted him up to carry him. The alarm stayed as he was forced to wrap his legs around Faie’s waist in order to keep from falling to the ground. There was a hand under his thigh and another one on the back of his head.

“Why,” 1719 whispered softly as Faie padded into the fresher, the Captain dangling from his arms.

Faie didn’t answer. 1719 was set down on the sink counter, giving Faie time to pull off 1719’s blacks. He kneeled on the tiled floor, pulling the blacks at 1719’s waist down.The mesh and cloth pulled off with ease, revealing bruises and scratches, scars, tattoos. 1719 yawned as he moved to help Faie, body aching as he moved. The Commander gripped 1719’s wrists, stopping him from moving further.

“Let me, okay,” Faie said, standing up to knock their foreheads together.

1719 leaned into the touch, a light quiver settling over his bones as the gentle touch burned him. The Captain gave a slow nod. He could allow this. Faie was his big brother. He could allow this.

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna baby me anymore,” 1719 laughed lowly when Faie ran a hand through his hair, pulling a low purr from his chest.

“I'm not. If I was  _ babying _ you. I would’ve left you in bed to rot in your misery while trying to  _ talk to you _ ,” Faie snapped quietly, pulling back from 1719 to turn on the water.

The water began to heat up slowly, the steam slowly rising as the temperature rose. 1719 watched as Faie pulled off his own blacks, eyes roaming the muscles and scars over Faie’s back. His gaze flicked to the flower sleeve tattoo on Faie’s left arm. It needed more color on 1719’s opinion.

“C’mere, shabuir, in the water you go,” Faie huffed as he pulled 1719 off the countertop and into the water.

“Dick,” 1719 mumbled softly, recognizing that the word was an insult of some kind.

Faie merely snorted, taking the soap to begin to wash 1719’s body. The Captain leaned into Faie, wrapping his fingers around Faie’s waist, just holding on. The sensation of his hair being washed was soothing, as if rubbing away all the dirt and grime was a holy feeling. 1719’s mind slowly buzzed into soft static, any thoughts of paperwork or worrying for his Shinies just melting away. As if Faie’s touch was the holy water cleansing 1719 of the  _ demon  _ that was his Jedi’s abuse. The Captain turned his head and nuzzled into that broad chest again, sighing softly. 

He could imagine it. Faie being the sexton to his burning cathedral. Taking water and putting out the fires. Slowly building the walls back up. Protecting him from the riots and flames from the outside. Sadly the sexton wasn’t always present, and so the cathedral burned and burned and burned, sometimes being only partially salvageable. 

1719 wouldn’t say he was religious. Did he believe that there was a God out there of some kind? Yeah. Yeah he did. But that was about it. There were some morals he followed, a few rules he followed, a few doctrines he followed that were based in other religions. He remembered telling Faie about it once, telling him about how he saw Faie as the sexton to his cathedral. Faie had snorted at the metaphor, but said nothing otherwise.

Strange. That his older brother was more respectful about his supposed  _ religion _ than some religious civilians. It was odd—

“Ink? You with me?”

“Number. Need to use number on the ship. Jedi doesn’t like names,” 1719 mumbled out, pulling his head out of his religious rant, trying to focus on Faie’s voice.

The Captain would pretend that he didn’t feel Faie tense up and growl at the words. 1719 was too exhausted for any sort of argument or discussion over it.

“ _ 19 _ . Are you with me?”

“Always, big brother. I’m just. Very tired. You remember that metaphor I used,” 1719 hummed softly, able to focus on Faie’s hands once more, feeling them clean his lower back. 

“The religious one or the animal one,” Faie snorted softly, something… fond almost… in his voice.

“The religious one. I was just thinking was all, 1719 whispered softly, eyes fluttering shut as Faie used his upper body strength to pull him up into his arms.

1719 pretended that it didn’t make a lazy heat pool into his lower belly.

“You think too much,” Faie snipped softly, looking Ink in the eyes.

“Maybe. But that’s why you’re here. To make me take care of myself,” 1719 smiled softly, relaxing into the press of their foreheads.

Faie hummed softly, leaning them forward, so Ink’s back was against the shower tiles, lifting some of the weight off on Faie’s arms. They stayed like that, just in each other’s space, resting under the hot water of the shower, until it slowly became cool. And even then, 1719 reached back and used his own water ration to keep the warm water going, neither wanting to pull away just yet.


End file.
